Unsolved Mysteries
by Flaming Trails
Summary: August 1st, 1957 ranks as one of the worst days in Doc's life. Written for the backtothefanfic April challenge.


Unsolved Mysteries

By Flaming Trails

A BTTF: PreTime Story

Disclaimer: I don't own BTTF. If I did, I'd have a nice BTTF-themed house with a DeLorean in the garage.

_Notes: Written for the April backtothefanfic LJ challenge. I had a lot of trouble coming up with a bad day for either Doc or Marty at first. Then I remembered I'd already given Doc an angsty history -- why not illustrate one particular moment? Jill Wooster is borrowed from the old "Paradox" script of BTTF II & III, but most everything else is my invention. The title refers to Doc's line about "the other great mystery of the universe -- women." _

Thursday, August 1st, 1957

Hill Valley

8:32 A.M.

_This has to be a bad dream!_

Dr. Emmett L. Brown, later to be known as "Doc," raced around his kitchen, desperately looking for some form of breakfast food that he could consume in 30 seconds or less. The unthinkable had happened -- he had overslept, and now he was running late. _I knew my first class started at 8:30! I planned to be up at 6:30! I've always gotten up at 6:30! What happened!_

Well, he knew what had happened -- his plans for the time machine. Last night, he had made some real breakthroughs in designing the flux capacitor for maximum efficiency. As a result, he had stayed up far later than he should have, and eventually had just fallen asleep at his desk. He had only woken up about 15 minutes ago. _The _one_ time I don't hear my study clock chiming. . . . _

To top it off, he had discovered he had drooled on some vital formulas. They looked salvageable, but Doc knew it was better to be safe than sorry when it came to such a complicated invention. _I'll have to spend the afternoon going over them _again, he thought angrily._ Just when I was sure I had them licked, too!_

The only food in the house that seemed to be edible without cooking was a loaf of bread. Doc grabbled a slice and stuffed it in his mouth, chewing quickly as he gathered up his things. _What an entrance to make on the first day of the new semester. The Dean's going to be furious with me! Well, more furious than he already is. _He shook his head. _I _would_ have to be late for the first day of classes after turning him down for a proposal. He'll probably use this to justify a pay cut. Wooster has never been too concerned with the definition of "fair." Thank God his daughter's not like that._

Once he had everything, he raced down to his car. He threw his bag of materials into the passenger seat, got into the driver's side, and turned the key.

Nothing.

Doc tried again. Still nothing. _Don't tell me my engine's dead!_ he thought, getting out and opening up the hood. _I hate calling cabs, I always get the ones who don't know how to drive. . . ._

After fiddling around with the engine for a moment, Doc discovered a few wires had come loose inside the battery. He adjusted those and tried to start the car once more. This time, the engine roared to life. Doc sighed in relief. _At least that problem's been averted,_ he thought, buckling himself in. He pulled out, ready to race off to the university --

And almost immediately hit a pocket of the heaviest traffic he'd ever seen in Hill Valley. "Perfect, just perfect," he muttered, in unconscious imitation of his future best friend. "Where in the name of Sir Isaac H. Newton are all these people going?"

The traffic provided no answers. It just seemed to be a case of random Monday gridlock. To amuse himself while they inched along, Doc glanced around at the other cars. There was a woman in a suit -- probably a secretary -- applying lipstick to his left, a rather large dog bounding around in the car in front of him, and a couple with kids chatting to his right. Doc smiled as he watched them. The woman was very pretty, with big blue eyes and bobbed brown hair. She somewhat reminded him of his own girlfriend, Jill Wooster.

Jill. . . .

Doc frowned. _I wonder how Jill's doing. We haven't spoken since I gave her my final decision concerning the Zymed project. Great Scott, I hated to upset her like that, but -- I just couldn't live with myself, knowing that I helped design chemical weapons! My guilt regarding my work on the Manhattan Project is enough for one lifetime._

He smiled as he thought of his girlfriend. He and Jill had met when Doc had been assisting at the university physics lab. Doc had been struck by her beauty and developed a crush. He and Jill had gotten friendly during subsequent visits, and eventually started dating when Doc was hired by Dean Wooster. Doc had never been one for dating, after his disastrous teenage relationship with a girl named Lucy Childs, but Jill was different. Jill didn't obsess over material things, like Lucy had. Jill didn't deride his love of science. Jill even liked Jules Verne! And unlike most of the other girls he had gone out with, Jill didn't actively try to avoid him outside of dates.

She did have her share of faults, of course. She was a definite "Daddy's Girl," for one. Whatever her father wanted, Jill went along with. And she was rather conservative, both in dress and manner. Her philosophy toward life seemed to be about pleasing the most people she could. Doc didn't begrudge her that -- being the daughter of the Dean, she naturally had to be a people pleaser. But every so often, she would try and make him act the same way. "Put on a suit and a tie -- my father doesn't think a Hawaiian shirt is professional enough," she'd say. Or, "Can you slick your hair back so it actually looks like you've combed it?" Doc occasionally went along with her, but it always made him feel uncomfortable. Despite some of the disadvantages -- bullying when he was younger, and the whispered rumors about him now -- he honestly enjoyed not going along with the crowd. It left him free to do what he wished to do, to work on the experiments others would reject simply because they were so odd. Jill didn't seem to understand this, and it had led to some minor fights between them.

But still, things were pretty good with his current girlfriend. Or, at least, they had been. Doc scowled to himself. _Trust Dean Wooster to ruin things. You think the man had never heard the word "no" before in his life. I'm not interested in working on the Edsel, I'm not interested in buying stock in Xerox -- or X-rox, as it _should_ be called -- and I'm _certainly_ not interested in chemical weapons research!_ He shook his head. _What really disgusts me is that he pushed for that last one the most. Zymed must be offering him barrels of money. But that's no reason to try and force me into doing something I don't wish to do. And then to _threaten_ me! "Jill won't be happy about this, Emmett. You're risking a lot more than just your standing on campus with this." The nerve!_

Unfortunately, the past few days had proved Wooster's warning to be more than an idle threat. Jill had come over the very next day to try and convince Doc to go along with her father's wishes. "It'll be good for everyone," she had told him. "My father will have the use of your brilliant analytical mind. And you'll finally gain some respect on campus. Wouldn't you like to be respected by your peers?"

"Of course I would, Jill. But I'd like it to be on my own merits, not because I agreed to work on the same project as them."

"They're never going to recognize you for your own work. You know that -- it's too unconventional. And this is such a great opportunity for both you and the university! Please, Emmett. If you can't do it for my father, then do it for me."

"Jill -- I can't. I love you, but I can't. I'm strictly opposed to anything that could cause loss of human life, and I have no interest in working on the Edsel or on a paper-copying machine. I'd much rather create my own inventions that work on someone else's. And if my work is unconventional -- so what? The greatest breakthroughs come from that which is unconventional."

"There's no room for compromise? At all?"

"I'm sorry. I know it's important to you and your father, but I have to look after my own interests first. I can't change the fundamentals of who am I."

After that, Jill had gotten very cold toward him. She had left almost immediately, after telling him she'd given him a few days to change his mind. They had been a very long and lonely few days, and Doc had been tempted to give in. But he knew that would be foolishness -- Jill had to love him for who he was, not who he could be. So when she had called five days later, he had reiterated his decision.

That had been about a week ago, and Jill hadn't spoken to him since. Doc sighed. _Her father really does have a strong hold on her. Well, perhaps this silent period has been for the best. Once she thinks about it, I think she'll realize that she wouldn't want me to be like everyone else. After all, she fell in love with me, not a carbon copy of her father. I'll try talking to her again once I get on campus -- if I ever do get--_

HONK!

Doc started, abruptly snapped out of his reverie. The traffic had finally cleared up, and his inattention had caused his car to start drifting. Doc quickly pulled back into his own lane. "Watch where you're driving, asshole!" the driver in the next lane yelled, giving Doc the finger. Doc did his best to ignore him. _Today is just not my day._

Thursday, August 1st

9:37 A.M.

He finally arrived on campus, a full 67 minutes late for his first class. It was useless to try and show up now -- most students gave their teachers 15 minutes to show up for class before leaving. Doc was certain that only the most dedicated students in his class had given _him_ more than two. He gathered his things and started heading across the quad. Well, at least he had plenty of time to set up for his next class at noon. Maybe he would even spot--

"Emmett Brown!"

Doc mustered up a smile. "Jill! How nice to see you!"

Jill didn't smile back. She stopped in front of him, folding her arms. Doc was surprised at how much she reminded him of her father when she did that. "So. This is what it's come to, then," she said coldly.

"What do you mean?" Doc asked, puzzled. He didn't think Jill would care all that much about his lateness. After all, he had never been late for any of their dates. Unless she had been sent by her father. . . . "I overslept this morning, unfortunately, I didn't mean--"

"This isn't about your lateness today," Jill interrupted with a huff. "I don't care about that. This is about the Zymed project." She unfolded her arms and shook a finger at him. "You're absolutely _certain_ that you're not going to work on that. There is no room for compromise."

Doc groaned loudly. "Jill, I'm sorry, but we've been over this. It's against my morals to work on anything that involves taking human life. If Zymed moves from chemical weapons to more benign chemical research, then I'll consider helping your father and his friends. But until then, I politely refuse." He started walking around her. "We'll have to discuss this later -- I need to get to my classroom and make preparations."

Jill stepped in front of him. "No. You can wait just a bit longer."

Doc blinked. "What? Why?"

Jill suddenly broke out into a smile. For a moment, Doc thought that this was all some weird, tremendous joke, and that things were about to go back to normal. Then, suddenly, she ran past him, crying, "Donald!"

Doc spun around. Standing near the edge of the quad was Dr. Donald Patrickson, the sophomore-level biology teacher and Doc's arch-nemesis on campus. Patrickson had been horrified when the university had hired Doc, and had protested loudly and often about "hiring a madman." Doc, in turn, had been disgusted by the way Patrickson spread rumors about everyone on campus and leered at all the available girls. After a few heated exchanges, the two had become bitter enemies, and did everything they could to avoid each other. Doc had never met a person he liked less, not even Biff Tannen.

And now -- now his girlfriend was hugging him. "Donald, I missed you over the summer!"

Patrickson looked rather surprised. "Jill? What are you doing?" he asked, frowning at her.

Doc lifted an eyebrow. _That's what I'm wondering. I know she's talked to him before, but that is awfully familiar for her. . . ._

"I just wanted to let you know how much I love you."

Doc's jaw hit the ground. _Love him! No, that can't be, she -- she must be lying. . . ._

Patrickson lifted an eyebrow. "I thought you were dating our resident freak over there," he said, pointing a fat finger at Doc.

Jill looked at Doc with utter disdain. "Him? Oh, no, that's over. The moron refused to help my father, so he doesn't deserve me. Unlike you, Donny."

Patrickson grinned. "Awww, sorry to hear your plan backfired, darling," he cooed. "But I suppose it's for the best."

"Yes, I know. Now everyone can know which one of you I _really_ care about."

"What -- I -- Jill?" Doc stammered, shocked.

Jill looked at him coolly. "All actions have consequences, Emmett." With that, she turned and kissed Patrickson full on the lips.

Doc gaped at them, not noticing his bag slip from his numb hand. It felt to him like Jill had just taken his heart and ripped it out of his chest. _She -- she's kissing _him_? She loves _him_? How could she! He's awful! Surely she can see that! _"Jill, how could you?" he whispered, his face crumpling.

Jill turned to face him, scowling. "How could I? How could _you_? You knew how important it was to my father that you help him with the Zymed project! How important it was to _us_!" She walked up and put a finger in his face. "Do you know what it's like to date the town freak, Emmett? People point at you and whisper. They think that you're a freak too. They think you must be as abnormal and strange as the guy you're next to. And of course, it's not like I could _tell_ them the reason I was dating you. I couldn't explain that I was trying to help my father get someone with your intelligence on one of his projects. Because you do have intelligence, Emmett. I'll admit it. But apparently you're not smart enough to realize that people like _you_ are not going to get anywhere in life. People who dress strangely, who can't keep their hair neat, who insist on being individuals instead of team players--" Jill sighed and let her hand drop. "I actually feel sorry for you, Emmett. You're going to have a miserable, lonely life if you keep on like this. I tried to change you, but you wouldn't listen. You just had to go your own way. And now look. You're all alone again." She smirked. "At least now Donald and I don't have to hide anymore."

"Don't -- don't have -- how long have you been with him?" Doc demanded, feeling tears burning behind his eyes. _No. I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to show her how much this hurts._

Patrickson laughed. "How long do you think? She's been with me since day one, Brown! And let me tell you something -- at least I know how to satisfy a woman! She was always complaining about how clumsy your kissing was!"

Doc looked at Jill. "Well, you are," she said, shrugging. "A normal person doesn't kiss like he's trying to resuscitate someone."

Doc couldn't reply. Jill turned around and went back over to Patrickson. "So, shall we go over to the Dean's office and tell my father the good news?" she said brightly.

"I don't see why not," Patrickson smiled.

"But--" Doc whispered.

Jill glared at him. "By the way, I'll be returning your Jules Verne books at the end of the day," she said with an air of finality. "I never liked them anyway."

"Enjoy your next class, Brown!" Patrickson laughed as they walked away, arm in arm.

Doc stood frozen, watching them leave. It had all been a lie. Everything -- the long talks together, the shared looks, the interest in his activities -- it had all been a lie. She hadn't loved him at all. She had just been -- _using_ him.

He was suddenly acutely aware of all the eyes on him. He looked around -- there were a few sympathetic faces, but mostly, the students and teachers who had witness the event looked almost -- amused. _Because we all know Lunatic Brown doesn't have feelings, no, he's just been put on this Earth to be humiliated for your amusement--_

Doc grabbed his bag and strode quickly across the quad, determined to get out of there. He heard the talking start as he left -- soon the news of Jill's breakup with him would be all over the campus. For a moment, Doc thought about just leaving. Then he shook his head and continued on to the science building. He wasn't about to slink away with his tail between his legs. No matter how much he wanted to.

He entered his empty classroom and sat down at the front desk. There was still a lot of time until his next class started. He pulled the papers out of his bag and started looking over them.

His own drool-soaked equations stared back at him.

It was too much. Furious, Doc crumpled the paper and threw it across the classroom. _No wonder Jill left me! I'm too stupid to do anything right! I can't believe I didn't notice I took the wrong set of papers!_ He put his head in his hands. _What's wrong with me? Why can I never please the ones I love?_

Unwillingly, his mind wandered back to all the other girls he had asked out. It was always the same thing._"Who would want to date the local freak?"_

"_You're even _asking_? No."_

"_Never in a million years, Lunatic Brown."_

"_The only reason I'm here is because my father made me, so don't get any ideas."_

"_Oh, man, great joke Emmett! You really know how to make me laugh. Asking me out -- that's really great."_

"_Stay away from me, you weirdo!"_

"_Don't even _think_ about it."_

"_Hmmm, the jock who's a football star and whom everyone loves, or the scientist who's the school joke. Which shall I choose?"_

"_I wouldn't go out with you if you were the last man on earth."_

"_Without your money, you're nothing, Emmett. Do you hear me? _Nothing_."_

"_How could anyone in their right mind love _you?_"_

"SHUT UP!"

Doc jumped, startled at the sound of his own voice. He quickly looked around, hoping that no one had heard. Luckily, he was still alone. He groaned and let his head thud onto the desk. _I don't know how I'm going to get through the rest of the day._

Thursday, August 1st

12:21 P.M.

They were at it again.

Doc gripped the chalk tighter, trying to resist the urge to turn around. He could hear them -- sucking on each other's faces, touching each other inappropriately, not paying the slightest bit of attention to his lesson. "Mr. Butler, Miss Anderson, _please_ cease and desist," he said through clenched teeth.

"Hey, just because your girlfriend left you--"

And that was the worst part of it. The main reason they were doing it was because they knew what had happened to him. And they wanted to rub it in his face. "This is not about me," he growled, though they all knew it was a lie. "This is about your entirely inappropriate behavior in my class. I understand that the first class of any semester may not be particularly enthralling, but it is still important, and I expect you to _pay attention_."

"Make me."

The chalk snapped in his hand. Doc spun around, scowling. "I have had a very hard day, Mr. Butler," he snapped. "I am not in the mood for dealing with your childish behavior."

Arty Butler smirked back at him. He and Jane Anderson still had their arms around each other, Jane having abandoned her desk for Arty's lap. "I'm surprised you even stayed here, after what happened," he admitted, bringing his hand up to stroke Jane's hair. "We all thought you would have left."

"Just because I have suffered a rather personal let-down doesn't mean that I should abandon my scholarly duties. Besides, my personal life is none of your business. The issue at hand is your inability to pay attention in my class." Doc leaned over his desk. "Now you can either stop fondling your girlfriend on my time, or you can leave this room."

"Sure you don't want to watch me for tips on how to please a woman?"

Doc slammed the desk with both hands. "That's it! OUT!"

Arty gently pushed his girlfriend off him and gathered his books. "I didn't want to be in this stupid class anyway," he said coolly. "I'll be waiting for you on the quad, Jane."

"Sure thing, Arty," Jane giggled, retaking her seat. Arty grinned at her before heading for the door.

Doc glared at the rest of the class. "Now can we please return to the topic of physics?" He spun back around, writing furiously on the chalkboard with his remaining chalk half. Behind him, he could heard the class doing everything except paying attention to him. _It was futile to try and teach this class,_ he thought. _Not only am I rather ill-prepared, they're not going to take me seriously today. Not after that -- incident -- on campus._ He winced. _Great Scott, that's going to be the talk of the school for days. . . . And I just know that everyone is going to be congratulating Jill on her choice. Nobody gives a damn how I feel about it all._

He somehow soldiered on through the remaining two hours and fifteen minutes, ignoring as best he could the jibes about what had happened between him and Jill. It was a blessed relief when he looked at his watch and saw that time was up. He hurried the kids out, then packed his bag and headed for the Dean's office. "Come in," Wooster said to his knock.

Doc opened the door. Wooster, bent over the newspaper, looked up at him and scowled. "Oh. Hello Dr. Brown."

Doc tried to smile. "Hello Dean Wooster," he said. "I'd like to apologize for my lateness today. It won't happen again."

"I'm sure it won't," Wooster said, turning back to his newspaper.

"However, I'm afraid to say that I feel I should take the rest of the day off. I don't feel that I can teach effectively under these -- conditions."

Wooster looked back up. "Oh? And what makes you so much more deserving than anyone else around here who's had a bad day?"

Doc winced. "You could say that my students were having a difficult time keeping current events out of the classroom."

"That's the fault of their teacher."

"Sir, believe me, it was not from lack of trying. I have no wish to further discuss the -- event -- that occurred today. But it did occur in a rather public place, and--"

"And who's fault is that? If you had been a bit more tractable, perhaps my Jill would have let you down easier," Wooster interrupted.

Doc felt his temper flare. "With all due respect, _sir_, I have suffered quite the let-down. I don't feel that I can effectively perform my job if I'm being hounded by my own students in regard to what happened to me."

Wooster huffed. "You know, you've always struck me as the belligerent sort, Dr. Brown. The kind who always needs things his own way. But I still can't believe you'd come in here and expect me to side with you after what happened today."

There was a long moment of silence. Then Doc growled, "What happened today was that your daughter publically humiliated me and left me for my worst enemy -- who, they both admitted, she was cheating on me with for the duration of our relationship. Coupled with the morning I had, I do not think I am capable of teaching a class. I'm going home for the day -- I'll be back tomorrow. Feel free to dock my pay as much as you wish." He turned around and stalked out, slamming the door behind him. He didn't care how unprofessional he looked anymore -- he just wanted to go home.

Thursday, August 1st

3:33 P.M.

Doc opened the door to his mansion with a loud sigh. _Thank God I'm home. If I'd had to spend one more minute on that campus, I would have gone mad. Maybe now I can get some time to myself. . . ._

Copernicus immediately ran toward him, barking loudly. Doc's feelings boiled over. "Shut up, you dumb mutt!" he snapped. "I'm not in the mood to deal with you!"

Copernicus stopped short, looking startled. He began to whine, tucking his tail in between his legs. Doc sighed again and knelt down. "I'm sorry, boy," he said, scratching the dog's head. "I've just had a very bad day." Copernicus made a soft "whuff" sound and licked Doc's hand. "I don't feel like playing with you just now, all right? Go play with your squeaky bunny."

Copernicus didn't need a second invitation. He raced over to his bunny and started chewing on it. Doc easily ignored the squeaking -- it was the least annoying thing he'd had to encounter today, after all.

He went into his study and unpacked his equations, replacing them with the proper syllabus so he'd have it for tomorrow. _If I'm even still employed,_ Doc thought darkly. _I wouldn't be surprised if Wooster fired me for my behavior. Granted, he might not be completely out of line, but still. . . ._

He tossed his bag in the corner, then sat down at his desk. He opened the second left-hand drawer and pulled out a few sheets of loose-leaf paper and a notebook. As he straightened the papers, he felt a sudden pain in his finger. _Of course. A paper cut. Why am I not surprised._

After making sure his finger wasn't bleeding, he proceeded to meticulously copy the drooled-on equations to some fresh paper. Setting those aside for later correction and confirmation (he was certain that if he did it now, he'd make some sort of stupid mistake), he picked up the journal and opened it to a clean page. Picking up his pen, he started to write:

_August 1st, 1957_

_Today has been a day that Murphy of Murphy's Law would have been proud of. I have been beset by a number of minor tragedies, and one major one that I have no real wish to recount. I will merely state this:_

_I will never, in a million years, understand women._

Doc looked at that last line for a long moment. _Never again,_ he thought angrily. _I'm never going to let myself fall in love again. The right woman simply does not exist for me. _Never again.

Then it all faded away as he finally allowed himself to cry.

The End


End file.
